


You're Safe With Me

by dreamiflame



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Clone Wars, F/M, Fluff, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamiflame/pseuds/dreamiflame
Summary: Obi-Wan is injured and doesn't want to rest. Luckily, Cody knows just where to take him.





	You're Safe With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jena Bartley (jenab)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenab/gifts).



> Thanks to my beta for quick edits and great suggestions.

Padmé looked up as her door chimed. “Come in,” she called.

Dormé appeared, a frown on her face. “It’s Commander Cody, my lady. He insisted he had to see you, despite the hour.”

Considering that neither of them had yet adjusted to the day night cycle of this particular planet yet, Padmé thought her handmaiden was being a little harsh on the Commander. “Nonsense, I’m still working. Send him in.”

Bowing, Dormé obeyed.

Commander Cody looked ill at ease in her office, his helmet tucked respectfully under his arm. “I beg your pardon, Senator, but we weren’t sure where else to take him. Regular med is full of more heavily wounded, and he keeps saying he’ll be fine in a few hours.”

Padmé bit back a smile. “I take it General Kenobi is being a less than model patient?”

Cody nodded fervently. Padmé couldn’t hold in her grin any longer. “By all means, Commander, have him brought to my suite. I have plenty of room, and Dormé and I will make sure he rests.”

“Thank you, Senator,” Commander Cody said, and bowed before he took his leave. Padmé finished the notes she had been reviewing for completeness, and stood, stretching her arms above her head. She’d been sitting too long.

She made her way to her suite, hearing the quiet murmurs of her guards as they followed behind her. Dormé met her at the door.

“Master Kenobi has had an unfortunate accident, my lady,” she said. Dormé was serious, but not terribly worried. He was hurt, then, not dying.

“That’s unlucky,” Padmé replied, and went to the door of the guest room of her suite, hitting the chime there.

“Come in,” Obi-Wan Kenobi said, sounding as disgruntled as Padmé had ever heard him. He was in the bed when she went in, the covers pulled up only to his waist, not concealing the bandages he’d been wrapped in. Padmé’s gaze was drawn to the sight of bloodstains on them, though the red was shading toward brown. The bleeding must have stopped, but he had been bleeding heavily for some time. 

“Good evening, Senator. Forgive me for not bowing.”

Padmé approached and sat lightly on the edge of his bed, reaching a hand to trace gently over the bandages. “You’re forgiven. What did you do to yourself this time?” Only long habit helped her keep from calling him “my dear”.

It wasn’t like that, not anymore. But Padmé sometimes wished it was still like it had been back when she was a new Senator and he had taken her on a tour of some of Coruscant’s watering holes. It had been an intense fling, brief and not terribly messy, but it still made Padmé’s heart race to remember it.

“Zigged when I should have zagged,” he said, and Padmé gave into the temptation, resting her hand on his cheek. It was rough with a few days growth of beard, but she didn’t mind the slight scrape of stubble. “I’ll be fine in a day or so.”

“And what do the healers say?” she asked.

He covered her fingers with his and closed his eyes for just a moment, looking exhausted. “They say a week. I don’t have a week, and your mission for the Senate is only for a few more days.”

“I can extend my mission,” Padmé said.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. “There’s no need.”

“There’s need,” Padmé said, and slid her hand free before she gave into any other temptations. “You need rest, and I can provide a safe place. So I will.” She stood, though it pained her to draw herself away from him again. “Therefore, Master Jedi, your orders are to rest and heal. The Senate wills it.”

He grinned, and tugged lightly on her long sleeve. “The Senate, or you?”

“I am a Senator, thus I speak for the Senate,” she informed him primly. Then, because it was too hard not to, with him smiling at her like that, she pressed her lips swiftly to his. “Sleep, Obi-Wan. You’re safe here.”

His smile was softer now, more intimate. “I know I am,” he said, and leaned back against the pillows. “I’m with you, after all.”


End file.
